


She Is Our Guide

by meditationsinemergencies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, F/F, Smut, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21673204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meditationsinemergencies/pseuds/meditationsinemergencies
Summary: Pansy called it quits on her relationship with Ginny a few months prior, but the Christmas holiday has her lamenting her ex-girlfriend. Luna spots Pansy sitting alone at a bar and believes she knows how to help her and Ginny.
Relationships: Luna Lovegood/Pansy Parkinson, Luna Lovegood/Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 14
Kudos: 67
Collections: Pen15 is Mightier Holiday Gift Exchange 2019





	She Is Our Guide

Pansy Parkinson was, on many levels, cold and callus, and, often, she could be quite a bitch.

She was also, on many others, soft tender, like a muscle pulled the day before, and, often, she was quite selfless. 

Pansy didn't nurture the way a woman like Hannah Abbott did. She didn't coddle and comfort with food and cuddles and cozy nights by the fire and warm blankets with hot chocolate, but in her relationship with Ginny Weasley, she took care of Ginny. 

Ginny was like a wild-fire. She spread and spread and spread herself until she was out of control, and that's where Pansy, with her cool porcelain skin and ice-chiseled features, came in. She drew Ginny ice baths when her body was wrecked from quidditch, and she did not ask her or gently coerce her into the tub. She would levitate her girlfriend down the hall and into the ice bath. Ginny would yell at her and scream at her at first, but then she'd stop, knowing full-well that Pansy was right. After, when they were in bed, and Pansy had made a healthy, protein packed dinner for her quidditch star, Pansy would rub a cooling ointment over Ginny's body, applying pressure where her muscles would be most sore. 

It didn't take long, when they first started dating, for Pansy to learn where Ginny would hurt the most in the morning: where her bruises would show, and where her muscles would ache. 

The cooling ointment was a gentle burn on Ginny's skin, Ginny's skin was tougher than hers: from being in the sun, from being shoved around on the pitch by her brothers and then by her teammates and then by rivaling teams. Pansy thought the ointment was _more_ than a gentle burn, but she enjoyed it just the same. Her fingers tingled as she messaged Ginny's arms and shoulders, her lower back and her thighs. 

Sometimes, Pansy would get to the front of Ginny's body, but not often, before Pansy would, dipping her fingers into more ointment, run her fingers along the cheeks of Ginny's toned arse, down between them and rub the cooling cream along the slit of her sex -- already wet with anticipation, already awaiting the arrival of Pansy's fingers. 

Straddling one of Ginny's legs in just a tank top and panties, she reached over to dip the fingers of her other hand into the cream. Slowly massaging Ginny's aching clit, listening to her begin to moan into her pillow, Pansy reached her other hand into her own satin knickers and smeared the creme against her clit, sliding her fingers into her pussy and involuntarily grinding herself against. This is how Pansy really knew they the creme was a more intense burn for her than Ginny. 

Pansy _knew_ how to take care of a woman like Ginny. She knew Ginny needed to be forced into ice baths sometimes and then needed to be coaxed into relaxing with pleasure and orgasms. She knew Ginny needed structure and routine or else she'd combust. 

Pansy, however, didn't bank on needing Ginny to take care of her, and, when the time came, she certainly didn't anticipate Ginny not knowing how to take care of her; she also didn't think that she would have ever been the type of ex-girlfriend who longed for her former partner -- certainly not the type who sat in her living room, a week before Christmas, running her thumb across the elegantly wrapped present for aforementioned partner. 

Pansy didn't intend to get Ginny a present, but she'd had it for several weeks before they broke up, and they'd broken up three months prior. Pansy was not the gifting type -- gift giving was not her love language, but when she spotted this pair of earrings, she knew Ginny needed them. They were simple, but elegant and not overly feminine. They were oval with gold lacing wrapped around an emerald stone. The quidditch team Ginny played for, the Holyhead Harpies, wore dark green and gold. Pansy wrapped the gift and set it under her tree because she kept hoping that Ginny would owl her or just show up out of the blue. Ginny was still very much a rash Gryffindor, and it had surprised Pansy that she hadn't heard from her at all in the three months they'd split.

Of course, she knew how Ginny's Quidditch team was doing and so on. Pansy was the editor in chief of Witch Weekly, and Eliza, the witch who wrote the section on health as well as Quidditch, adored and admired Ginny deeply, so Ginny was featured and interviewed often. This was, afterall, how Pansy and Ginny had reconnected. 

\--

Pansy was in her office reviewing the latest issue of the magazine, when her secretary burst into her office, "Miss Parkinson, I'm so sorry. I couldn't stop her." 

Pansy, alarmed and annoyed, looked up to see her secretary looking alarmed and terrified as Ginny Weasley burst into the office. She was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, flats, and a button down boyfriend-cut white shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail which allowed for the sun from Pansy's office windows to illuminate her entire face. In school, Pansy knew Ginny was beautiful, and she envied her for how she seemed effortlessly so. At this moment, Pansy felt similarly, not envious exactly, but she _was_ taken aback by how effortlessly glorious Ginny was. 

"I refuse to wear a string-bikini swimsuit for the article, Parkinson. I am here to influence young female athletes. I will not allow myself to be objectified. I do not care how fit --”

Pansy cut her off. She stood up from her desk, placing a hand on her hip, her other hand resting on the desk,"I did not approve that -- you wearing a swimsuit in the shoot. This is the first I've heard of it. That's cheap, and we are no longer a cheap gossip magazine. Who told you you had to wear a swimsuit?'

"Your sports writer -- Bancroft."

Pansy rolled her eyes. Bancroft was a skeeze, and this was all she needed to hear. 

"Rachael?'

"Yes, miss?" The secretary piped up from behind Ginny. 

"Send a howler to Bancroft with a notice of his termination. Have Rolfstein pack up his desk for him. Tell Eliza that she is now in charge of sports as well as health."

Pansy drew a breath and switched her attention to Ginny, "My apologies for my former employee’s lack of tact and professionalism. We want to cover you and your success as an athlete and a woman. We don't want the focus of it to be your body. To show our appreciation of you letting us run the article, let's meet at the new French restaurant downtown. Tonight? Seven? Until then, please go see Eliza; she is wonderful and completely professional. I have this copy to revise, and I am quite busy. I don't mean to be rude, but is there anything else I can help you with?" 

Ginny looked dumbfounded at how things had been handled. Effectively. Calmly. Swiftly. She left Pansy’s office without another word, and made her way to what turned out to be a very flattering and successful article paired with equally flattering and tasteful photographs.

Both intended the dinner to be a professional one, neither thought there was any other option but that: It would allow Pansy to form a relationship with a rising athletic star, who could often be used in the magazine, and for Ginny it was the positive press she needed. Neither expected a three year relationship to blossom from it.

Pansy ended her relationship with Ginny after half a year of fighting _with_ her and _for_ her. Ginny had begun to take Pansy for granted, as quidditch became her ultimate focus. Pansy understood ambition; it coursed through her veins. However, Pansy's ambition was subtle and cool and she internalized it a great deal. Staying up late to write and revise and revise and revise, when she was still just a journalist -- determined to write about things that were worthy not gossipy. Refusing to waste any second of her day at work, she wasn't ever caught in her office at her desk just sitting there, either -- no gossip between doorways, no eating without something in front of her to work on. Pansy worked her ass off and, because of this, she valued the time when she wasn't working as _hers_ and for the past three years it was for her and Ginny.

Ginny however didn't work that way. Ginny was always on the Quidditch pitch in someway or another, and while Pansy understood that Ginny had goals, Pansy also, near the end, found herself _yearning_ for Ginny, _pining_ for Ginny, _aching_ for Ginny, when Ginny was supposed to have been there all along. 

In retrospect, Pansy realized how insignificant the actual incident, the one that pushed her over the edge, was, but that was always how it always seemed to go. Little cracks upon little cracks upon little cracks until there was nothing more there _to_ crack. 

There was, once again, plans that Pansy and Ginny had made -- a date, a trip to Paris, a night in, an evening with friends, a cocktail party for schmoozing, where, last minute, Ginny chose Quidditch things -- running drills, weight training, matches (not her own, but other matches to go and watch), broom signings, parties, over Pansy things. Her excuse was that she _had_ to; she was at a real golden time in her career, everything was critical to her future and their future, but after awhile Pansy never bought the whole idea of Ginny doing anything for them, it always seemed to just be for her and her gratification. 

\--

Still absently touching her gift to Ginny, Pansy stirred herself from her memories of Ginny. Setting the gift back under her Christmas tree, she stood up and made herself a drink. A gin and tonic. Pansy smirked at drinking gin and mused to herself that if Ginny was here right now, she'd happily drink her instead of this blasted drink. 

Tilting her head back to finish the drink off, she moved to her bedroom where she slipped on her black heels and long black peacoat before apparating out of her flat and to The Silver Sprite, a very quiet, but crowded, bar. It was a dark and calm place that always had a live jazzy, Speakeasy-type ensemble. 

\--

A house elf took her coat as she entered. She felt eyes on her, and she felt immediate relief as Ginny ebbed from her mind. Pansy was attracted, sexually and emotionally, to those who identified as women, but that didn't mean she didn't get immense pleasure from being admired by everyone. 

She enjoyed eyes on her; she enjoyed the power that she seemed to have over people. Despite Pansy's envy of Ginny's beauty in their youth due to its effortlessness -- wild hair in hasty ponytails, bare faced with her freckles as makeup, raucous laughter, tanned skin in athletic shorts and old t-shirts, Pansy's beauty was just as effortless; her hair was a deep black, almost purple tinged, and cut into a short-bob with natural smooth waves that framed her face; her eyes were large and dark and deep, and it was easy for someone to lose themselves there; her lips were soft and plump and a soft pink. While not as tall as Ginny, her limbs were long and lean, with gentle curves that she knew how to dress -- satin tops and high-waisted pencil skirts. 

What was the most seemingly effortless of Pansy's was the way she presented herself when she walked into a room. She was a presence: her posture, the slight tilt of her chin up, her arms at ease while the rest of her was straight. Pansy had worked for this presence, it wasn't at all effortless, but the appearance of that was what she had worked for.

As she made her way to the bar, not acknowledging any slight wave or nod or raised eyebrow from anyone, she sat down with the soft thrum of an upright bass in the background. Pansy slowly sipped Firewhisky and berated herself again for choosing a drink that reminded her of Ginny. 

Pansy had finally gotten her mind into an almost meditative state: the deep thrum of the base and the burn of the Firewhisky every sixteenth beat, when she felt a small almost non-existent tap on her shoulder, "Pansy?" 

She turned to find Luna Lovegood beside her. Her long dirty blonde hair with flowers and vines threaded throughout, and her long, light blue peasant, off-shoulder dress, with small pink and yellow flowers all seemed so out of place and was, most certainly, out of season. 

"You do know that it's December, don't you, Lovegood?"

Luna leaned her elbows back against the bar, glancing at Pansy, "Of course I know it's December. What does that have to do with anything?" Her voice as light and ethereal as always.

"Your dress is off-season." 

Luna looked down and giggled, "Oh! I just came from South America. It's quiet warm there." 

"South America? What were you…? Do I even want to know?"

"Ohhhh. Probably not. It's not something _your_ magazine would be interested in. It's, oh, you know, what do people say? Offbeat. Kooky. Idiosyncratic. Avant-garde." Luna waved her hands about in a ridiculous manner as she said this, and Pansy couldn't help but roll her eyes. Luna was doing everything that Pansy was bothered by with Luna in this moment. Offbeat. Literally. Luna seemed to even speak in a rhythm that was offbeat from that of the piano and bass and cymbal. 

Pansy downed her remaining Firewhiskey, ready to head home as her peace had been interrupted. 

"Enjoy your evening," she said to Luna, and as she went to quickly spin her barstool away from the bar, her legs -- calves and feet and high heels knocked hard against Luna. Luna's body was warm against her skin and for a beat Pansy was flustered. "Oh, Salazar. I'm sorry."

Luna rested her hand on Pansy's knee, tapping her fingers just offbeat with the music, she tilted her head to the side and shrugged, "It's okay. It's not a big deal." 

Pansy felt it was a big deal. Pansy didn't just clumsily knock into people. She was cool and efficient; she was neat and orderly. Every move was made with pristine precision, and she never tripped, never stumbled, never stubbed her toe on the coffee table, and she never knocked her body against someone else's by accident. 

"No. Really. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For knocking my legs into yours."

"They're just legs, Pansy." 

Luna smiled warmly at her and Pansy felt a surge of annoyance and affection. Luna was so carefree, so unconcerned. Luna didn't consider her every move, and her thoughts seemed to flow effortlessly. Pansy found she envied this type of effortlessness the most above all.

There was no need for Luna to care that she was out of place. No need for her to hold her shoulders just so. She didn't seem to think a thing of the fact that she had just apparated to a dark bar in the middle of London from somewhere in the middle of South America. If Pansy had just arrived from South America there would be luggage to tend to, owls to be sent, laundry to do, a shower to take, a seven-step skin care regime, and on and on. There were things to be done, but Luna didn't appear to have anything to do other than to stand against the bar, her fingers still tapping against Pansy's knee.

Pansy took a moment to look at Luna. She watched her chest rise and fall with relaxed breath, watched her lips move as she sang something along with the instrumental music; she noted how her dress was tight around her chest, noted the way her breasts were cupped by the cinching of the top, the curve of her waist, and how her thigh, where Pansy's foot rested felt full and still incredibly warm. _Maybe she brought the heat from South America with her_ , Pansy mused and suddenly realized that, while she had been admiring Luna's form, her body had begun to release its own heat. She felt her chest flushed along with a familiar warmth that settled in her stomach and spread between her thighs. Pansy hadn't felt any remote sexual desire since she and Ginny split. She hadn't even really thought about sex in a sexual way; she'd only thought about it in a way that lamented what she no longer had. 

"Regardless, I'm sorry. I need to get going."

"Are you busy, then?" Luna wasn't looking at her, her eyes were fixed on the musicians.

"Not particularly, but it is getting late."

"Is it?"

Pansy cast a charm and found that, no, it wasn't even remotely late. She sighed. "Not exactly."

"Hmmm. Well, if you have to go, it was lovely seeing you, Pansy. You are always a sight to see."

Taken aback by her comment, Pansy prodded, "What does _that_ mean?"

"Oh, you know, I think I could pick you out anywhere. You are a like a dark secret flower in a field of bright yellow ones. Sooner or later, the yellow ones lose their identity and just become a yellow field. You don't. I don't think you ever have." 

Pansy swallowed, her body warmed by Luna's dripping sincerity. Pansy found herself admiring her again. Never would Pansy have chosen to share such thoughts with someone, but Luna seemed to think nothing out of the ordinary about it. 

"Thank you?" Pansy raised her inflection, trying to sound uncertain and questioning of Luna. She didn't want Luna to know that she was throwing her off. 

"No need to thank me."

Pansy snorted, "First, I can't apologize, and, now, I can't thank you. Will I be able to say anything you find acceptable?"

Luna smiled again, "Perhaps."

"Perhaps," Pansy repeated with a mocking tone.

Luna remained quiet, and Pansy took this as a time to order another drink and close out her tab, before doing so she asked Luna if she wanted something. 

"The orange honey mead, please." Luna told the barman. 

Pansy scoffed. "Again, it's winter. You seem to be living a world where it's springtime and you're at some bizarre Muggle Renaissance festival. Drinking orange and honey mede. Wearing soft cotton dresses. Flowers in your hair. You don't make sense." 

"Why do I have to make sense?"

"There is an order to things."

"Yes. True. This is _my_ order to things. Just as straight Firewhisky, perfectly manicured nails, and…" Luna reached forward, tucking Pansy's hair behind her ear, "not a hair out of place, is _your_ order."

Pansy felt electrified by her touch and chilled by the air against her ear. Pansy never tucked her hair behind her ears, never in public. Sometimes she'd pin it back at home, but, like Luna observed, she rarely had a hair out of place. 

Pansy didn't reply to Luna's comment and took a slow sip of her drink, and, out of the corner of her eye, observing Luna as she drank her mead. 

They finished their drinks in silence. Pansy, who rarely ever drank enough to get buzzed, felt what she could best describe as her brain warming and her lips relaxing. She said before overthinking it, "You're right." She flagged down the barman and got a glass of water. 

"About?" Luna inquired. 

"Order."

"What about it?" Luna inquired further.

"Your order is your order. My order is my order…" and under her breath she said, "Ginny's order is Ginny's order."

Luna raised her eyebrows. Pansy explained,"I broke up with her."

"I know, and I'm sorry to hear that. You two made such an attractive and powerful couple."

"How do you know?"

"Ginny and I still correspond through letters occasionally." 

"Right," Pansy nodded. She had somehow temporarily forgotten Ginny and Luna's friendship.

"Ginny will come to in time."

"What do you mean?" 

"You know Ginny as well as I do."

Pansy felt as if Luna wasn't going to give her anymore, and Pansy didn't feel like pressing her further. 

"Ginny will come to see what she's lost once she realizes that what's she gained wasn't worth the loss. Until then, don't wallow over her. Don't let her consume you."

Luna had leaned against Pansy's legs to say this and Pansy could almost feel her skin through her dress. Pansy felt herself wanting to touch Luna's skin. She had a feeling Luna would feel like lying in the sun. Warm. Comforting. Lulling. 

\--

Pansy liked control. The best sex she and Ginny had was after she forced her into ice baths and then released her body from it's aches before Ginny would, trembling from orgasms, bury herself between Pansy's thighs. Pansy was not experimental -- she wasn't creative. She didn't branch out of their norm. She wasn't willing to feel unsure of herself. She wasn't willing to not please Ginny. And Pansy knew what she liked, and she knew what Ginny liked: That was all there was to it. 

Which was why Pansy was all the more shocked when she found herself in her bed an hour or so later with Luna Lovegood. Luna was naked, not that there was much effort for Luna to be naked -- Luna wore no bra and no underwear underneath her dress. Pansy was astonished by this. _It's December_!

Pansy, however, was still partially dressed, her skirt and black laced bra still on. Pansy had been trying to control the situation. Make Luna come first and quickly. Get partially naked. Guide Luna on how to curl her fingers and suck her clit just so to make her come. Chat a bit. See Luna out. End evening.

That was how Pansy _expected_ it to go. 

Pansy crawled onto her bed and in between Luna's knees when Luna grabbed her arms and pulled her to her. Luna caught Pansy's mouth in hers, running her tongue along her lips before taking her bottom lip into hers and gently biting. Luna moved her lips to Pansy's jaw and up to the ear she'd exposed in the bar earlier, sucking on the lobe. 

While her tongue and teeth and lips explored Pansy's ear and neck, Luna pushed up Pansy's skirt and began to rub her clit through her lace underwear. The course material, wet from her arousal, ground against her, and as she moaned she felt her body relax and give in to Luna. There were no longer any checklists to get through as Luna slid her fingers beneath the edge of lace and traced the tips of her fingers along her aching sex. 

\--

Pansy awoke the next morning. A flower stem poking her in the forehead, and her body sticking with sweat to Luna's. 

\--

This carried on for almost two days. The kissing. The slowness of taking each other's bodies into their mouths. The eating takeout at the kitchen counter in robes. And the showers where Luna asked Pansy to make herself come for her. Pansy never made herself come at her own hand. She had a small efficient vibrator that would send her into a quick efficient orgasm in under three minutes. It was all very Pansy-like -- fingering herself in the shower with Luna Lovegood was not, but Pansy was currently unaware of how she would normally behave and after a few moments of insecurity, she happily did as Luna requested. Luna, too, while watching Pansy pump her fingers into herself and pull and tweak her nipples, began to bring herself to her own orgasm. Pansy breaking into hers as she watched Luna unravel underneath the water droplets. 

During their final shower, Pansy pressed Luna against the wall, her nipples peeking at the feel of the cool tile. Luna's soft and curvy hips and arse pressed against Pansy's body, Pansy slipped her fingers into Luna and began to fuck her with them -- hard and with desperation. Pansy had yet to make Luna come without Luna assisting in some way, either by repositioning Pansy's hands just so, requesting she sucked her clit harder, riding Pansy's face, guiding her fingers to her arse. As Monday and the Christmas holiday approached, Pansy felt each physical interaction was her last chance to make Luna come on her own. 

When they masturbated together Luna was always intense, she was always rough with herself. She tugged on her nipples and pushed her fingers deep inside her. It was amazing to Pansy to watch such a sprite of a woman take herself into her own hands so fiercely. Pansy knew how to make Luna come now. She was sure if it. 

She continued to fuck Luna with her fingers while she placed her mouth at her neck sucking and biting the soft skin. Pansy then ran her mouth down Luna's back and to her arse. On her knees now, she rested both her hands on Luna's waist, and she ran her mouth to the bottom of her arse cheeks biting the soft skin there. With one hand she spread her cheeks and ran her tongue across her arse and against her pussy, dipping her tongue into her. 

Pansy reached forward and turned the water off and muttered a spell to keep the confines of the shower warm. Pansy wanted to taste Luna as she came in her mouth. She guided Luna to spin around, her hands back at her waist. Pansy sucked her clit into her mouth and with her left hand dipped her fingers into Luna's arousal, using it to sink her index finger into her arse, sliding her finger into her slowly. She listened to Luna's enthusiastic moans and whimpers, and Pansy with great pleasure knew she was close to making her spill. Her finger still pushing into her arse, her lips still wrapped around her clit, Pansy pushed her fingers into Luna's pussy and curled them into her, pumping them. Not long after, Pansy felt Luna's thighs give, and heard her gasping as she came. 

\--

"This weekend was quite "out of order" for you, wasn't it?"

Luna was turning to leave. Pansy laughed at Luna's comment. 

"I suppose so, yes."

Pansy felt as if she was a little in love with Luna at the moment and she wanted to berate herself for her stupidity, but she didn't.

"I'll see you soon, Pansy." 

"Will you?"

"Oh. Indeed. I think so," and with a grin she was gone.

\--

Christmas Eve arrived. Pansy's family were all in Azkaban and, she had spent her holidays alone before Ginny, and with Ginny she was thrown into the madness of the Weasley clan, and while in the moment she always felt overwhelmed and desperate to get home, she found that she longed for The Burrow. She tugged at her jumper -- an emerald green knitted sweater, the one Molly had given her the year before. 

She had added another gift underneath her tree. A small gift for Luna. Pansy could be such a bloody fool of a romantic that it made her sick. 

She was about to turn in for the night when she heard a knock at her door. 

Opening it, she found Ginny and Luna. Pansy wasn't sure what she was supposed to be feeling, staring at her ex-girlfriend, the woman she'd been waiting months to show up and grovel at her feet, and the woman who had fucked her into oblivion the prior weekend. 

Composing herself, perfect posture and tilted-up chin and all, she asked, "What is the meaning of this?"

Ginny in wildfire-Ginny fashion exploded words at her, "Look. I've been selfish. Ok? I spent the past few months telling myself you were at fault. You weren't. Luna's helped me to see that. I've been one-sided and blind. I bucked against you because you seemed so desperate to keep things just-so, and I realize now you were doing all that _for_ me. To help me. To take care of me. And I haven't done shit for a long time to take care of you."

Pansy, determined not to react emotionally, nodded towards Luna, "Why is Lovegood here?" 

Ginny hesitated a little, "She had an idea. I think she can help me...help us, rather."

"Is she going to replace you? Is she going to go with me to release parties? Is she going to sit with me at home and watch rubbish TV while you sign brooms?"

Pansy knew she was being unfair. She was trying to fight when Ginny was here to make amends, but Pansy didn't want to give in too easily to her.

"No. No, Pansy. I'll be there to do those things. I want to be with you, which means less time signing things and smiling for pictures." 

"Then I haven't got a clue what Lovegood is here for? How's she supposed to help?" Pansy glanced at Luna and felt her belly tingle with the memory of her mouth against her.

"Luna is of the belief…" Pansy faked an irritated scoff as Ginny continued, "that healing and understanding can come from sexual experiences and often couples lose touch with this particularly intimacy. This is where Luna comes in. She is our guide."

"Our….guide?"

"Yes. She will help us to...to…"

"Fuck better?" Pansy asked half-comically half- condescendingly. 

"I _know_ about the two of you," Ginny added.

Pansy stared at her and Luna. 

"She said you two had quite the experience together. I want that with you, Pansy. I love you, and I want you. And I want Luna."

Pansy paused and nodded, "Well, come in then."

  
  


\--

Half an hour or so later, the three women were tangled together -- tenderly and softly. Ginny and Pansy's lips met timidly each time, unsure of one another but also desperate for the other. Luna kissed each of their bodies with no method or thought. She'd lick and suck on Pansy's breasts while teasing Ginny's clit. She'd kiss Ginny's neck occasionally moving her mouth to meet with theirs unsure of whose tongue was whose. 

As the minutes passed, the tenderness wore off and Ginny became hungry to be part of what it was that Pansy and Luna shared. She rested against the headboard. She nodded to Pansy, "I want to see Luna fuck you. I want to see you let go." 

Pansy was propped up on her knees, and she froze feeling timid now that she didn't have Ginny or Luna's body against her. It wasn't long before Luna crawled over to her and laid on her back beneath and between her legs. She grabbed onto Pansy's thighs and pulled her onto her face. Luna's tongue caressed her and Pansy quickly forgot what she'd been so timid over. Ginny was in awe of watching the woman she loved riding Luna's face. Her body arched as Luna licked her, and Ginny began to finger herself. Later, they switched. Pansy watching Ginny. Ginny spiraling into orgasm as she saw Pansy come at her own hand. 

Ginny moved off of Luna and made her way to Pansy, positioning herself between her legs and entering her with her fingers as she kissed her thighs and clit over and over. Luna came up behind Ginny, and she slipped her fingers into her making Ginny moan against Pansy's clit. 

The women lay in bed. Quiet and calm. Tired but exhilarated. Luna got up and disappeared for some time. Leaving Ginny and Pansy alone for the first time. They spoke not of their breakup but of their future -- admitting their loneliness and their love for one another. Their lips fell together and they both found each other's sex with their hand, toying with each other until Luna came back. 

"I have an idea,” Luna stated as she came in.

The couple stared at the woman who seemed to have become _their own_ mythical creature. 

"There's something _I_ need." 

Both Pansy and Ginny knew they'd take Luna into their bed at anytime. They'd fuck her or love her or just whisper with her. Whatever it was. 

Luna climbed into bed between the two women, "But, first, let's sleep." 

"Wait!" Pansy exclaimed checking the time, "It's Christmas."

Pansy left the room and came back with the gifts for Ginny and Luna. 

She tossed them in their laps before climbing back in next to Luna beaming, "Happy Christmas."

Luna giggled as she tugged at the ribbon on her gift, and Ginny smiled, rolling her eyes at Pansy, “You’re such a sap.”


End file.
